Fine Arts Aren't That Fine
by chromium clockwork
Summary: She had had a meeting with Forks High School’s solitary guidance counselor two days before. It was during that half-hour session that Bella first heard the words that would seal her doom: "You’ll have to join the color guard." One shot, Bella's POV.


**Fine Arts: A Twilight Fanfiction**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

**Author's Note:** I got the idea for this fan fiction at one of my own band practises, and I just couldn't get it out of my head. xD

* * *

"Just one stupid Fine Arts credit, and I get stuck here," Bella mumbled under her breath.

The day was oddly sunny for Forks, Washington. Though the temperature was fairly low—it was the middle of August, and barely eighty five degrees—the ever present humidity of the little town was already making sweat bead on Bella's back. It wouldn't be long before it started to soak through the white cotton of her tee shirt, emblazoned in orange with the words "Forks High School Color Guard." Her shorts were the same color, as was the cloth on the practice flag she was holding carefully with both hands—her posture resembled how one not trained with guns might hold military-level firepower.

She had had a meeting with Forks High School's solitary guidance counselor two days before to review her schedule for her senior year. It was during that awful half-hour session that Bella had first heard the words that were to seal her doom: "Honey, there's not an opening in Music Appreciation. You'll have to join the band."

Bella had protested—she hadn't ever played an instrument before, so how was she supposed to march with one? But the woman just chuckled and patted Bella's arm reassuringly, telling her, "Oh, don't worry. The color guard can always use alternates." Gulp. And so, she was given a practice uniform and an event schedule—apparently, band dweebs didn't have much of a life from August through November—and now, here she was, standing at an awkward attention position in what the guard instructor had called a fundamental block.

"Alright, girls, at ease!" Jason, the guard instructor, yelled. "We're going to do some stretching to get you all warmed up, so set down your flags. Veterans, I want one of you to every newbie. Show them the ropes!"

A petite redhead Bella vaguely remembered having been introduced as Lynn approached her. "Welcome to your doom," she cackled softly. "Because this won't hurt a bit—it'll hurt _a lot_."

"What?" Bella squeaked, but her voice was covered up by Jason's loud announcement.

"Arm stretch!"

Bella looked over at Lynn helplessly. "What am I supposed to—"

"Here," Lynn said, assertively grabbing on top one of Bella's arms to spin her around to face the other direction. "Now, you put your hands on your hips—no, not like that, like you're mad at me, honey. There. And then I just—"

Bella gasped in pain as the younger girl took a hold of her elbows and pushed them back against each other. Her shoulder muscles were practically screaming under the pressure. "Hey! Ow, that _hurts!_"

Lynn sniffed disdainfully. "You haven't seen the half of it. Band camp is no place for wimps."

"Switch!" Jason hollered.

After several more body-defying muscle stretches, Jason instructed the girls to pick back up their flags. "Alright, now," he told them. "Newbies, you're looking alright, for a bunch of cows." Lynn snickered. "But by the end of band camp," the instructor continued, "you will be able to do _this_." And at that he tilted his head back and lifted up his left leg. He stretched his right arm over his shoulder and grabbed his ankle, lifting to touch his toe to his nose."

Bella watched this display slack jawed. "There is no way."

"Way," Lynn replied sagely.

"Alright, it's time to learn some basic flag exercises!" Jason announced, dropping back to a less inhuman position and picking up a practice flag of his own. "Now, girls, watch the way I move this. Five, six, five, six, seven, eight—"

Flag exercises, Bella discovered, were never as easy as Jason made them look. On top of that, the guard instructor seemed to never be satisfied with _anyone's_ work—including the seniors, who had been doing this for four or five years. When she bent to pick up her flag after having dropped it for the fifth time—or was it sixth?—a dark shadow blocked out the sun overhead. "Bella," Jason said in a dangerously patient tone.

"Yes, um, sir?" she squeaked in reply.

"Have I not made it clear that you will be expected to _hold_ the flag during our show?" he half shouted.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered. "It's just, uh, that I'm new to this—"

"Being new is no excuse!" Jason shouted. "The band is only as good as its weakest length, it's stupidest member, it's most heifer-like newbie!"

"I'm sorry—"

"Twenty push ups!" he ordered. "Your upper body strength obviously needs some work."

"Yes sir—"

"And ten more every time you drop the flag!" he finished, before walking away to terrorize Anastasia, a newbie who seemed to be having problems similar (although maybe not quite so severe) as Bella.

Her arms quickly started to burn as she did her push ups. The burning slowly faded into a painful pins-and-needles feeling, combined with the sensation of having over-cooked noodles for extremities. When the band director, working with his own fundamental block of newbie marchers, called a five minute "gush-and-go" water break, Bella was afraid she might have to drag herself off the field over to her water bottle.

"I've heard the second day's worse," croaked the freakishly tall and blond Anastasia. Like Bella, she looked as though she might have spent more time doing push ups than she did flag exercises. The older of the two blanched at what she had said. Tomorrow? Bella wasn't sure she was going to be able to make it until lunch break today, let alone all the way until—

"Nah, it's the second week that's really bad," Lynn said, raising up her water bottle. "Cheers."

"I can't believe they put us through two weeks of this hell," Bella moaned.

"Relax," Lynn said, waving one hand. "At least he hasn't started us on—"

Jason interrupted, clapping his hands loudly. "Time to get up girls!"

"It hasn't been five minutes!" Anastasia protested.

Jason rolled his eyes. "It only takes five minutes to redevelop all those cow-like tendencies I'm trying to beat out of you," he told her. "Now get up, and I want all of you to run a lap around the field! And I mean _run!_"

"Speak of the devil and the devil will answer," murmured the redhead, pushing herself to her feet. Bella sighed and went to follow her more experienced counterpart.

"And don't forget to grab your flags!" Jason added.

At this, Bella groaned aloud. She was supposed to _run_ with that thing? Reluctantly, she picked it up and began to jog a large circle around the carefully painted white yard lines. She concentrated on not tripping on the flag as her lungs began to burn. Left, right, left, right…

"Come on, Bella, hurry!" Lynn yelled. "He makes the last one to finish do forty push ups!"

Bella snapped her head up. _Fifty_ push ups? All at once? "There's…no…" she panted, "wa—" Her concentration lost, she didn't think to watch where her flag was going. The metal pole tangled up her feet, and one second she was flying, and the next—

When Bella woke up, two faces swam blurrily into focus above her, silhouetted against the sky: Charlie and Edward. "What…?" she mumbled slowly.

"Oh, good, she's coming around," Edward murmured. Then he stood up and yelled over his shoulder, "Don't worry, everyone, she's coming around!"

"Don't worry, Bells, sweetie, we'll get you to the ER to see Doctor Cullen," Charlie told her. The two men helped her to her feet slowly. Edward leaned forward so his mouth was next to her ear.

"Alice saw that band was going to give you a little trouble," Edward murmured in her ear.

"Yeah," Bella mumbled in reply. "I guess I'm not all that cut out for color guard."

"Oh, that reminds me!" Charlie said suddenly. "The guidance counselor called. She wanted you to know that she made a mistake—there _was_ an opening in Music Appreciation, so you won't have to do band after all!"

Bella wondered what kind of torture could be inflicted on guidance counselors without out the torturer getting caught…


End file.
